


Lone Wolf - A Story from the Great War

by Evagorn



Category: HEARTBEAT (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evagorn/pseuds/Evagorn
Summary: A tale of Rackam Vapula





	Lone Wolf - A Story from the Great War

“Rackam! Where are you?”

A slice of tree meat slipped from Rackam’s lips as he readjusted his position on the branch he was sleeping on. He looked around him, having been enjoying the most satisfying dream of being embraced by a brute of a Yang made of nothing but thick slabs of steak. He peered down at the doughty looking Werewolf below and grumbled.

“Oh, it’s just you, Eloise. What is it?”

“It’s brother coronation today,” she huffed, hands on her hips as her tail flicked back and forth in that peculiar way it did when she was especially irritated. “He’s being made Alpha. Or did you already forget that?”

Rackam hadn’t. How could he when it was the only thing their parents ever talked about? Or anyone in the pack for that matter. And when everyone at Rackam himself with veiled looks that seemed to say “And to think they’re brothers. They couldn’t be less alike! Branson is so talented and assertive, perfect for Alpha. And yet the older brother is so…”

And that was usually when Rackam tuned out. He didn’t need to be reminded that he was a disappointment. It haunted him as much as he liked without outside help.

Eloise kicked the tree Rackam was still sitting in, making it shake dangerous. Rackam readjusted his position to avoid dropping. “Hey!” He called down. “Watch it!”

“Come down yourself or I’ll make you,” Eloise threatened. “Your skull is thick enough that I’m sure the fall won’t hurt you.”

With a grumble deep in his throat, Rackam dropped to the ground. “There, happy?”

“No. Not until you get cleaned up and join me at the ceremony.”

“I wasn’t planning on attending, you know.”

Eloise looked genuinely stricken. “He’s our brother, Rackam! You seriously were just going to skip his coronation as Alpha?”

“It’s not like I wasn’t going to hear all about it later,” Rackam growled. “He’ll be Alpha for the rest of his life. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities for him to remind me.”

Eloise’s face fell then in a way that never failed to cut Rackam to the Core. “Do you really hate him so much?”

That face…

“I don’t hate him,” Rackam replied hastily, not wishing to see her further disappointed. “It’s just… hard for me, you know? It’s not usually the younger son that gets chosen.”

“Are you jealous, then?”

Rackam snorted. “Not really. I never wanted the job.”

“Then why do you care if he was chosen so much?”

“Because other mothers care!” Rackam retorted. “As do the elders, and basically anyone else who thinks I haven’t heard it enough. I’m happy for Branson, I really am. But I can’t stand the disapproving looks I get whenever he and I are together. It’s like they think I should have been him, or something, when I’m happy living the way I do now.”

Eloise smirked. “You mean eating, drinking, and fucking until your Core threatens to rot right out of your chest?”

Rackam flashed her his best smile. “Exactly. See, you’ve always understood me, El.”

She heaved a heavy sigh and put on the damned face again. “Rackam, you know there’s more to life than just that, right? Why don’t you find someone to settle down with, have an egg? It would do you good to have something bigger than yourself in your life. Honestly,” and her gaze grew if possible even more heart-breaking, “that’s the only difference between you and Branson. I’ve always known you had it in you to be a great leader. I just think you never believed enough in yourself.”

“El…” Rackam felt no other words come to him. He rubbed the back of his head like a child caught scaring the Sheepsquatch.

Eloise extended a hand. “Come on, there’s still time for you to get cleaned up and at least make an appearance. For me?”

The wind whistled through the bones that covered the red soil of Chopskinsville.

“For you, El… alright.”

* * *

Branson stood at the center of a circle of the twelve elders, each robed in their traditional grab: heaving robes of dark cloth with stark white moons etched into their backs. Each elder’s robe had the moon in a different phase, starting from the waning crescent, following its path all the way to the darkened circle of a new rotation. Branson himself beamed at his surroundings, his boyish grin belied by his massive frame. Rackam had to admit, he struck a dashing figure in the bone armor made to distinguish the Alpha on this occasion.

Rackam and Eloise stood with their two mothers near the front of the pack, in a place of honor. This was their family member being named Alpha, and each of them would gain certain benefits for having such an honored relation. Rackam contemplated this, and smiled.

_Might not be so bad having little brother as Alpha. Could get me in with more Mogs impressed by proximity to him._

Branson’s eyes fell on Rackam, and if possible the glee there only redoubled. Rackam did his best to smile and wave. A little part of his Core lit up when he saw that look. Branson looked genuinely excited to see Rackam there.

Eloise seemed to notice, because she gave Rackam a slight jab with her elbow as if to say “I told you so.”

At last, the head elder raised his hands to speak. “We are gathered on this occasion as pack to usher in the coronation of a new Alpha.”

A soft howl rose within the crowd, persisting for a few seconds before tapering off, as was custom.

“For this honor, we recognize Branson Vapula, who has proven himself not only cunning, but strong and fearless. Of all our number, none could be more deserving of this great calling.”

Branson knelt before the elders, head lowered. “It is my joy and pleasure to lead the pack with strength and wisdom.”

“Then,” the elder went on, “in recognition of your might, we bestow upon the rightful calling of Alpha. Rise, Branson, and face your pack!”

Branson did so, turning his steely gaze upon them. Gone was the boyish smile. In that countenance there was only calculation and power. Those were the eyes of an Alpha, and being who had conquered all other comers and shown himself superior. And for that moment, Rackam felt proud to call him brother.

A great howl pierced the night, led by Branson, and it carried long and loud. Rackam joined in as heartily as the best of them.

When it concluded, the procession dispersed for the festivities. There would be feasting long into the night until the moon had disappeared from sight. There would be games and contests to be held. And, if one was clever about it, such high spirits were a great way to form a tryst or two…

But before Rackam could begin to gorge all of his carnal pleasures, Branson came to him and took him in a hearty embrace. “Brother! I’m so glad you could be here! It wouldn’t have felt right if you hadn’t been here.”

“Ah, don’t make such a big deal of it,” Rackam dismissed. “Of course I was going to be here! This is your big day.”

Neither of his mothers nor El made the obvious observation that Rackam literally had to be knocked of a tree to attend, for which he was grateful.

“Listen, Rackam,” Branson said, holding his brother at arm’s length. Despite being differing ages, they were almost exactly the same height, and could see eye to eye. “I… I know what people say about you. I know how they gossip and glance. And I know how it wounds you, even if you try to hide it from me.”

Rackam grimaced. “It’s fine, Branson. I’ve chosen my lot in life.”

“I know,” his brother replied, “and I’ve always respected that. You’re a lone wolf in your Core, and there’s no shame in that. But, if you would, I wondered if you would accept a place as my huntmate.”

Rackam blinked. “But, Branson, I’m not-”

His brother held up a hand. “I know, you don’t think you’re qualified. I’ve already cleared it with the elders. They are permitting it on the force of my recommendation alone,” and he flashed a toothy grin, “or else.”

“Branson…”

Eloise inserted herself at this point, taking Rackam’s other hand. “Say yes, say yes! Oh Rackam, this is just what you needed! You won’t have nearly as many duties as Alpha, but getting a chance to lead hunts and oversee the needs of the pack will be good for you! And you’ll be good at it, I’m sure!”

Rackam was trapped between the glowing eyes and smiles of his siblings. Not a predicament he liked to be in. But there was no escape now. He sighed irritably, but nodded. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Both El and Branson cheered, with latter clapping his brother forcefully on the back. “You won’t regret this. And thank you, Rackam. This means a lot to me.”

“Yeah… of course, Branson…”

* * *

For the next couple of months, things were a little rocky. Rackam had to actually learn the proper rituals and customs for the hunts, as well as learn how to record and keep track of everything brought in. He had to learn which Mogwai they had treaties with and which they didn’t. He had to make more public appearances than he ever had before, and much, much less sex than he was happy with.

But a strange thing happened. He actually began to enjoy himself. There was something about the thrill of leading the pack, at least a part of it, that exhilarated him almost more than a good tousle or exorbitant feast. What’s more, he had the approving eye of his brother watching him the whole time. That, above all, made the effort worthwhile.

But all that changed the day House Sitri came.

Rackam was out in the fields overseeing a recent collection of tree meat when he saw them coming. Right away he was on edge. Firstly, it was a measly Tesso that took the lead, with two burly Dust Devils as his bodyguards. A man with benign intentions did not strut around like that.

“Excuse me,” the puny man said, whiskers twitching on his pointy little face, “I must speak with your leader on behalf of Mordecai Sitri, of House Sitri.”

“House Sitri?” Rackam drawled. “Never heard of them.”

This seemed to offend the rodent sufficiently, which made Rackam smile. “Well! Are you the leader, or not?”

“Not, but I am his right hand. Tell me what you want and I can pass it on to him.”

“I believe our missive was sent ahead of my coming,” the Tesso insisted. “He will know of our intention, and since you clearly do not, I wish not to speak with you any more than I have to.”

“You grubby little dirt chewer,” Rackarm snarled. “If you don’t watch your mouth-”

“That’s enough, Rackam. I’ve been expecting him.”

Branson and a pair of seasoned wolves approached, matching the Tesso’s muscle for intimidation. Although compared to that Tesso, Branson looked like some kind of god.

The rat adjusted his spectacles. “You are the Alpha, then?”

“I am,” Branson replied.

“Very good. And you received my Master’s letter?”

“I did.”

“Splendid. Then if you will direct me to the trees set aside for the purpose-”

Branson held up a hand. “Not so fast, Tesso. I never said I accepted your Master’s terms.”

The Tesso’s petulant expression soured furthered. “I beg your pardon?”

“While I appreciate his… generosity,” and the way Branson said this made Rackam believe he was anything but, “I’m afraid the meat trees are an essential part of our tribe’s food. We need them in order to avoid hunting, and to maintain our burgeoning population.”

“I believe you were to be paid handsomely for each tree you provided,” the Tesso retorted.

“Quite,” Branson agreed, “but I cannot eat tokens.”

“Use them to purchase what food you need, then!”

“Why would I sell the food I have, just to use the money to buy food?”

Branson’s retainers snickered at this witty retort, and Rackam couldn’t resist joining in.

The Tesso was much less amused, as was to be expected. “I see. My Master will not be pleased.”

“Send him my sincerest apologies, and thanks for his offer.”

Without another word, the rat turned and marched off.

“What a little prick,” Rackam said just loud enough that he expected the Tesso could hear.

He’d expected Branson to be chuckle at that, or at least smile. But his brother’s eyes watched the retreating Tesso as he would another wolf sneaking to steal his kill.

“What’s wrong?” Racakam asked. “What’s with that look?”

“I fear we have not seen the last of that man,” Branson said enigmatically.

As it happened, he was right. Much as Rackam wished he hadn’t been.

* * *

It was hardly more than week before the little man was back. With far more than a pair of bruisers this time. Joining him were a least fifty well-armed Mogwai of various sorts: Orcs, Sahuagin, Dust Devils, Bigfoots, and Minotaurs. These were hard Mogs, ones that knew their way around a fight, the kind you’d only want around you if you intended things to get messy…

Rackam was once more at the edge of the tribe’s lands when they came, but Branson was already there at his side this time. Another letter had come, and though Rackam hadn’t read the contents, the way his brother paled was explanation enough.

The Tesso stood fifty paces back, his makeshift army taking positions beside and behind him. He looked almost comically small in the midst of that horde. Some of those Sahuagin could almost certainly swallow him in one bite. Yet they waited on him as though he were the Queen herself.

“Branson Vapula,” the rat declared, “you have been given a second offer to relinquish possession of your trees. Less generous this time, as you have proven recalcitrant. Accept my Master’s offer this time, or,” and he stared down his spectacles meaningfully, “we are prepared to resort to less savory methods.”

“You can’t just bully us,” Rackam snapped. “These are our lands!”

“I’m afraid I have express permission from the Queen to perform such actions,” the Tesso retorted, flourishing a piece of paper.

“Oni’s ass you do,” Rackam howled.

Branson put a hand on his shoulder, forcing Rackam to calm slightly. “It’s alright, brother,” Branson stated. “Do me a favor. Head back and get El and mothers.”

These words were spoken in a low, almost conspiratorial tone. So Rackam replied in lack fashion. “What are you thinking? He can’t be serious.”

“Whether that’s really from the Queen or not doesn’t quite matter at the moment. He has a small army there, and we’d be wise to be prepared for the worst. It’ll give me piece of mind, alright?”

Rackam snorted. “Fine, I’ll get them. Where should I meet you?”

“Just get everyone into the town square. I’ll meet you there.”

Still feeling right pissed, Rackam did as ordered. But not before flashing a rude gesture at the pompous cretin who had caused all this nonsense.

Rackam approached the town, which consisted of a series of tents that could be easily collapsed. He headed right for the one his sister and mothers resided in, pulling aside the flap to call inside. “El! Mothers! Branson’s calling everyone-”

There was a sound of a Core shattering, and Eloise feel to her knees. She gasped for breath, turning towards Rackam with a look of utter horror and pain on her face. That face…

She burst into shard with a sound like a hundred glass mugs shattering at once. Rackam’s eyes bulged. His breath caught in his throat. He scanned the floor, which was already strew with shards. And finally, he settled on the Kobold that held the knife.

The horrid creature smirked. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet. But I guess I can do you in, too.”

A howl ripped the air to agonized shreds. A shadow thick as suffering raced across the ground and coiled the Kobold’s torso. In a blink he was within reach, and Rackam tore the Core from the damnable beast’s chest without hesitation or thought. He cast aside the wreckage of thing before it had fully crystalized. He spared one last look at the floor, but he could see all he needed to.

Bursting back out into the air, Rackam could hear screams coming from other tents. He charged with all his might towards the closest, hurling himself inside just in time to save an older woman from being dealt the same fate as his family. The assassin was another Kobold, and Rackam tore his head off with a vicious bite.

Spitting out the remains, he turned the woman. “Get into the town square. They’re trying to pick us off one by one. We need to get into a group!”

“Where is the Alpha?” the woman asked, voice quavering.

“At the border dealing with his own problems! Now go!”

The woman needed no further prompting and raced out. Rackam joined her, his rage upon him. He would find every last bastard who had made the mistake of coming into his village, and he would make them bleed.

Fortunately, not all had been caught unawares. He saw more of his fellow Werewolves driving the dastard monsters before them, but screams continued to fill the air as more tents began to be empty of their frightened occupants.

_Why?_ He asked himself to no avail. _Why is this happening?_

“Rackam!”

He turned towards the voice, and saw a wolf he recognized as one of his brother’s personal guard. The woman was panting, clutching a bleeding wound on her arm. Rackam went to her and held her steady. “What’s happening? Where’s Branson?”

“Dead,” she gasped out, “there were more than we thought, and they’re coming! We have to run!”

“Dead,” Rackam repeated, unable to truly understand.

More screams forced his mind to focus. He spun about, seeing his people in disarray. A few more assassins were being dispatched, and almost all of the tribe was outside now, scattering like frightened Tanuki.

“What are you doing, Alpha?” the bleeding woman asked, grimacing through the pain.

Rackam turned to her, nonplussed. “I’m no Alpha.”

“You have to be,” she pleaded, gripping his arm with her free hand. “Please, Rackam…”

He grit his teeth, then raised a howl. He was a loud, mournful one, a howl to get the attention of all that heard it. He saw that it worked, and soon all eyes had turned to him.

“Hear me!” He shouted as loud as he could. “We have been betrayed! We must flee or else be utterly destroyed! Those whom you cannot carry must be left behind! As is the way of the pack!”

Though there was fear and some trepidation in the faces that looked back at him, none defied his order.

_Branson,_ Rackam thought, casting one final look towards where his brother likely now lay dead, _Why did you leave me at such a time as this?_

And with that, Rackam lead the charge away from the village and into the fields of Chopskinsville. He could hear the sounds of his accursed enemy pursuing him, though only as far as the village. Then, the only sound was the rustle of paws, and the sorrowful howls of those left behind...

* * *

Eventually, they reached a place they could be safe. Many set themselves down to rest their weary legs from such an exertion. But not Rackam. He made his rounds immediately, looking for any who were wounded. Without thinking, he began to organize those who remained. Those strong enough were set as guards; the weak gathered together to be attended to by those not set as watchers. Another party was sent to forage food, while another began to aid Rackam in counting their numbers and seeking to identify all that were not with them. It all happened so quickly, without protestation from anyone. Rackam knew it was his voice that gave the orders, yet it did not seem like him. He felt as though he were watching some other Mogwai lead, while he merely watched from some faraway place of cold and darkness.

That first night was by far the worst. There was no family that had not lost someone, and the mourning carried well into the evening hours. This suited Rackam well enough. He would not sleep.

The next day they moved on, trying to get even more distance from the site of calamity. They continued to move this way, with Rackam taking charge, for three more days before finally settling on a spot that seemed safe to settle in. Even then, this would likely not be permanent. But it would have to do.

During those three days, Rackam did not sleep. And even though his Core felt like it might shatter any moment, he dared not rest. Not until he was sure his people were safe. He had all reports given to him directly, and oversaw every undertaking. He would not allow what remained of his pack to fall to something as trivial as lack of food or water. Not after what they had endured.

Finally, with a new place more or less settled on, Rackam felt the weight of all that had happened begin settle. Through the sudden exodus, it had been easy to leave aside what he himself had suffered. There were more pressing matters. But now, with things inevitably quieting down, he finally had time to truly accept what had happened to him. And the thought threatened to destroy him.

Branson, Eloise, his parents, his people. Cut down by treachery and avarice. And all with the Queen’s approval. How it made his blood boil. How he seethed in some deep, dark place within himself that he never knew had been there. It was madness, insanity. This couldn’t be.

At his lowest point, when he felt like he might perish from grief and rage, a voice called to him.

“Rackam Vapula, I have heard your despair, and I am here.”

He looked up… and saw glory.

Two figures descended down upon him in a pillar of fire. When they fully materialized before him, he was nearly blinded by the magnificence. Two Dragons, one clearly the elder, stood before him. The elder approached, extending her hand. “Come, child. Embrace me, so that I might ease your burden.”

Something in that voice called to him on an almost primal level. He felt compelled to go to her, and soon knelt before her. She cradled his hand in her hands, and warmth flooded through them into Rackam’s very bones. Even though he still felt almost uncontrollable grief, something in that touch made it… bearable.

“I am Xing Huang Di,” the Dragon said in her melodious tones. “My consort, Yulon, and I heard of your plight. It seems not all who participated had agreed to such methods. Even now, word spreads among those who know me, and aid is being brought.”

“Thank you,” Rackam said automatically. It was the proper thing to say in such an instance. “We have wounded, my lady.”

“I had thought as much,” Xing replied. “I have called for a Phoenix whose reputation I knew well to come aid you. She will attend to you shortly. You need fear nothing.”

“But my lady,” Rackam said as tears began to well in his eyes, “what should we do? Our home has been taken from us. We have been driven and slaughtered. And the Queen’s own order has done this. I… I don’t know how to act.”

Xing’s countenance fell somewhat at these words, though she swiftly recovered. “For now, I do all that I can. I confess, I am more limited now that I would wish. But in whatever ways I can help you, I will. And if you find ways I can aid you further still, I shall always be ready should you call.”

Rackam closed his eyes and let Xing’s warmth overtake him.

True to her word, her supporters soon came to give Rackam’s people food, medicine, and makeshift shelters. The Phoenix made quick work of the injuries his people had sustained, though Rackam spared no time to see her himself. He simply oversaw the distribution of aid to those who needed it. It was a boon, to be sure, but a bittersweet one.

After the calamity had passed, and Rackam was once more alone with his thoughts, he wondered what to do next. His people had at least found a form of stability, though more would need to be done eventually. But for now, he was content with knowing he had been blessed by an entity that had the power to truly provide the help he needed.

_Xing Huang Di… I will find a way to repay you for this… of that I promise you._


End file.
